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For Steve
[It's been fourteen months, six weeks, and four days since the Soldier pulled Steve from the Potomac and ran from everything he had ever known. Since he had begun to realise which parts of the world he'd been fed were lies, but hadn't quite managed to pin down which were truths. He knows that Steve has been looking for him. Not just him, but his friends too, most of the Avengers have been roped into Steve's unceasing search.
They never find anything.
He's too good, he knows how to hide. He's seen them - Iron Man once, Falcon four times, Steve twice - but they've never seen him. He's a ghost, just rumours that dry up on the wind. He's not too sure if he wants to remain this way for the rest of his life, he knows he's not ready for anything else, and this feels almost comforting. Anonymous. But something in him has pulled him back to America. He hears on the news what's been happening with the Avengers, he sees that there's a new 'compound' that they're using as a base, though none of the news channels know where it is.
It doesn't matter, he finds it.
There's security systems, of course, but he bypasses them all. He slips close enough past Falcon that he can smell the aftershave he used, but he isn't noticed. He finds Steve's room, easy to tell it's his because of the shield inside the door and the way that the whole place is military precision. Not a habit easy to break even once the army is done with you. He isn't even sure why he's here, just that he's following the instincts of his mind at the moment.
He takes a seat on Steve's bed, cross legged, and he waits.]
They never find anything.
He's too good, he knows how to hide. He's seen them - Iron Man once, Falcon four times, Steve twice - but they've never seen him. He's a ghost, just rumours that dry up on the wind. He's not too sure if he wants to remain this way for the rest of his life, he knows he's not ready for anything else, and this feels almost comforting. Anonymous. But something in him has pulled him back to America. He hears on the news what's been happening with the Avengers, he sees that there's a new 'compound' that they're using as a base, though none of the news channels know where it is.
It doesn't matter, he finds it.
There's security systems, of course, but he bypasses them all. He slips close enough past Falcon that he can smell the aftershave he used, but he isn't noticed. He finds Steve's room, easy to tell it's his because of the shield inside the door and the way that the whole place is military precision. Not a habit easy to break even once the army is done with you. He isn't even sure why he's here, just that he's following the instincts of his mind at the moment.
He takes a seat on Steve's bed, cross legged, and he waits.]
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[It's an immediate response. Maybe it will hurt more without something to bite down on, but that reminds him too much of being reprogrammed so he'd rather go without and get a bloody tongue if it comes to that.]
I can handle it.
[He's endured a lot worse than having a few bullets dug out of him, especially by someone who actually cares if he's in discomfort from it.]
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Okay. Just try to stay still.
[He braced his hand carefully on the front of Bucky's left shoulder and leaned over to see the entry wound. Wincing, he pushed the forceps in until he felt metal on metal. He felt sick, almost as if he could feel the pain of it personally, though Bucky barely seemed to be breathing, he was so still.]
Sorry, Bucky. [And then he grabbed the slug and pulled it out as quickly and carefully as he could. As soon as he had it out, he grabbed a bandage and held pressure on the wound. He inhaled a shaky breath.]
One down.
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He feels ragged around the edges, and he's a little worried that he might react on instinct if this goes on too long and lash out. That Steve now will become too mixed up with a HYDRA medical technician of the past, so he deliberately clenches his right hand in an attempt to keep it still. At least his left is useless now.]
Go faster.
[He spits the words out, low through gritted teeth. Better to be fast and done, even if it's more painful and less precise.]
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I'll do my best.
[He had to sit on the bed next to him and lean back to get the closest look at the would. He wiped away some of the blood to get a clearer look at it, then he just went for it. With anyone else, he wouldn't have dared. But he knew that Bucky had some form of the serum that he'd had, and therefore he would recover from any small medical infraction Steve might inadvertently inflict. He slid the forceps in and felt the tap of metal to metal. He grabbed hold of it and pulled it out, wincing again.] I'm sorry, Buck. Are you okay?
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It takes him nearly a full minute to focus back on Steve when they're done, the question filtering slowly through the fog of his thoughts. Maybe it's the pain, maybe it's the creeping blackness, but he accidentally replies in Russian.]
Functional, sir.
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Are you hurt anywhere else? Do you want something to eat or drink? Water? Vodka? Do you want to sleep?
[Mostly Steve just wanted Bucky to stay. He would offer him just about anything that he could think of.]
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It's such a weird thing. Do you want? He hasn't been asked that in a long time, choices are still new and interesting to him, and his lips quirk ever so slightly upwards.]
Are you going to tell the others that I'm here?
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Tony could fix your arm, but I'm not going to do anything you don't want me to do. I just want you to be safe, Buck.
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No.
[He pushes up to his feet abruptly.]
They can't know.
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[He looked up at him, not making an effort to physically stop him, only because he'd never get him to stay voluntarily then.]
Please stay. I'll stand guard while you rest for a while. I can get you a meal. We can go somewhere else, somewhere lower profile. I have a motorcycle and an apartment in Brooklyn we could go to. If you want. [He didn't know what would convince him, but he had to try.] Please. I've been looking for you for so long. I only want to help you.
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You've been looking for someone that used to share my face a long time ago. Bucky Barnes, I know, I went to the museum. But that's not me, I don't remember that.
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Why come to me, then, if you're not Bucky? Why pull me out of the Potomac if you don't remember anything? You must remember something. Whatever they did to you, you're still James Buchanan Barnes whether you remember or not.
[He wasn't sure if his argument was compelling enough, but Bucky hadn't left yet. He rose to his feet slowly so he could look at him eye to eye.] If you could remember, you'd want my help. You wouldn't want me to give up on you. And you'd protect me no matter the risk to yourself. So I have to believe that some part of the man I knew is in there.
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His brow furrows further and he closes in on himself, swallowing hard past a sudden lump in his throat.]
You're wrong. I came here to tell you to stop looking for me.
[Not true.]
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[Steve was discouraged, painfully so. It felt like a personal rejection, but his own feelings were not important in this situation. He wasn't going to give up on his best friend until one or the other of them was dead. And even then, he wasn't sure he could. He'd left Bucky for dead once, and that was how they got into this situation to begin with.]
I just want to know that you're safe, and you're clearly not safe right now. If you don't want to see me... well... I guess I can learn to live with that if I know that you're somewhere secure. But as long as I don't know that? I'm never going to stop. I'm sorry.
[It hurt to look at him, to just want to pull him into a hug and hold him. He'd failed the very last person he'd ever loved so spectacularly that he almost welcomed the pain of it. As punishment.]
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[He's free, isn't he? He's managed to stay free and out of the grasp of the people that are hunting him for a long time now, how could he be any safer than that? It sounds like Steve wants him in some kind of facility, or is delusional that Bucky could ever just settle down in suburbia and live a normal life.
His choice are to be imprisoned, to run, or to die. There's nothing else.
He fixes Steve with a hard expression, though his gut is churning for the pain he can see clearly on Steve's face, waiting for an answer.]
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[It's a fair question, though. And it makes Steve think about it for a moment. The only way he's ever going to feel reassured that Bucky is safe is if he can personally guarantee it. Even as he thought it, he realized that it was probably unfair. He couldn't exactly bring Bucky in as part of the team. He doubted Bucky would want that, anyway. The thought of letting him slip through his grasp, though, was difficult.]
If you want me to go with you, wherever you're going, I will.
sorry for the delay!
They'll look for you. They need you.
[Otherwise he might take Steve and hide away somewhere, figure out who the hell he might be. But he's not involving the rest of the Avengers.]
np!
Well... I could... stay in touch. Not just run away, but make them all think I just need some time to myself. Then they won't come looking.
[He wasn't completely sure that would work. They were a nosy bunch.]
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[He knew when he came in that there was no way of them both walking out, or him staying, but still he came. Stupid. But he couldn't help it, like he can't help the tiny worm of disappointment that he can't take Steve with him.]
I shouldn't have come.
[Now he does push up off the bed, metal arm hanging awkwardly with the damage at the moment.]